


Make it Work

by kirasha



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:50:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirasha/pseuds/kirasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all began with a little boy and his hat. But things aren't always what they seem when the Dark One gets involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make it Work

_ONCE UPON A TIME, IN A MAGICAL FOREST..._

_That's the way most of the tales we know begin. But, this isn't most faerie tales._

_This story begins, not in the annals of time, but just a fraction of a lifetime in the past. It begins when all the men and women of other tales were but children themselves. Nor does it begin in the Magic Forest that so defined those other tales, but in a city on the outskirts of that forest. And in this city, with its hustle and bustle and people and animals and business and leisure, there lived a ten-year old boy with unkempt hair and dirty feet. And a hat. What followed were grand adventures, beautiful romances, and heart-wrenching trage-_

_Wait a moment._

_I'm getting ahead of myself._

_There was a boy and a hat and this is his story..._

 

"If it's magic, then make it work! Do something magical with it!"

"Maybe it's broken!"

"Maybe his head's broken!"

The sound of children's voices could be heard outside the old millinery, not an unusual sound in the summer afternoons. Unfortunately, the taunts were not an unusual sound, either. As in any city, the children here were not intentionally cruel, but they didn't know better and the milliner's young son was smaller and quieter than the others. He didn't think like them, saw more in the world than they did.

"It _is_ magic!" he yelled back, a black velvet top hat held between his hands as he stared down the two bullies.

"Magic doesn't exist, you big baby!"

"It does! Don't push me!"

"Doesn-" The bully's argument was short-lived due to the fact that where he was standing now stood a fat, croaking toad. His friends, bless their cowardly hearts, took one look at him and ran squealing down the street. When they got into the distance it was difficult to tell if they were still little boys or the piglets they sounded like.

But, the little boy whose magic hat was the subject of such debate wasn't watching them. Instead, he watched the strange man approaching the bully-turned-toad with a smile that was far from nice. His hair was kind of stringy and his skin was a funny shade of gray the little boy had never seen on a human being before. His close were nice, though, finer than anything the little boy had seen since the time a lord had stopped at the inn for a night. And, yet, even his white lace cuffs seemed a little dingy, like the rest of him. When he spoke, it was in a high semi-falsetto that seemed jarring from an adult.

"Now, now, dearie. What was that you were saying about magic not existing?" The strange man stooped down to speak to the toad. He reached out to touch the toad with a finger, but the toad, who still possessed the heart of a frightened bully, hopped madly away in the direction his so-called friends had fled. The strange man _humphfed_ quietly before standing to brush the dust of the street off his clothes. Then, he turned to regard the little boy and his hat with the most curious expression.

"Please, Sir." Despite the slight stammer to his words, the little boy stared bravely up into the face of his unlikely rescuer. "Are you a wizard?"

"Let's just say, I'm someone used to the ways of magic, shall we?" The man's smile still didn't seem very nice, but he didn't turn the little boy into a toad, either. "But, I've never seen a hat quite like yours. Mind if I look at it?"

"I...I don't think it works." The boy handed the hat over with a dejected frown.

"Nonsense." Taking the hat the strange man turned it round and round between his hands, looking it over before staring at the boy again. "Where did you get such a magnificent item?"

"My father, sir. He made it."

"I should very much like to meet the man who made such an item. Will you take me to him?"

"I...I can't, sir. I don't know where he is. He just...disappeared."

"I see. And your mother?"

"Dead, sir. When I was a baby." The boy brushed strands of dirty blonde hair from his eyes to stare up at the strange man. "Please, sir, can you make it work?"

"Can I make it work? Well, let me see." Turning the hat over in his hands again, the man fell silent for a long time. "You know, I don't think there's anything wrong with this hat. You just need to know the special trick to calling the magic. Want me to show you?"

"Oh, _please_ , sir!"

"Right, then. Here's the trick...it just needs the right wish from the right person. Then you spin it like so..." The man twisted the hat in the air and let go so it spun to the ground. "But, I don't seem to be the right person. Why don't you give it a go?"

Not quite sure he believed this funny little man, but still thinking about the bully the man had turned into a toad, the little boy took the hat between his hands and held it just like the man had. "But, what do I wish for?"

"What do you want to wish for? How about travel? Adventure? Would you like to see the world? Go someplace new, filled with magic, where you won't be picked on for believing? Would you like to meet people who will appreciate what you can do for them instead of looking down on you for having no parents?"

The boy nodded.

"Well, then. That's what you wish for, lad. Now go on and try it."

Brow furrowed, the boy concentrated on his wish with all his might and spun the hat just as he'd seen the man do.

And that was when it happened. Real magic!

Instead of falling uselessly to the ground, the hat spun wildly through the air, hovering there for longer than a hat should hover. When, at last it began to float toward the ground, it also began to grow and grow. Soon it was large enough the boy was afraid he might fall in. Still, he risked a peak over the brim and gasped at what he saw!

"There...there's a whole _room_ down there. I can see the floor! And doors!"

"What are you waiting for, my boy? Jump in and see where adventure takes you."

"Will I be rich? Or important?"

"Won't know until you try."

"I...I can't pay for this." The boy started to back away, sure this wasn't meant for him.

"Consider it a loan. You go off and find your adventures, make your fortune. And some day," the man said with that same not-so-nice smile that didn't scare the boy at all now. "Someday, I'll come back and ask for a favor in return. How's that?"

"Okay." The boy nodded vigorously. "Thank you, sir!"

"Not at all, my boy." The man watched as the little boy took that first timid leap into the hat. "Not at all."

* * *

Storybrooke, Maine was no longer cursed. After the first few giddy days, however, very little had changed. And yet everything had changed. The thought didn't even make sense in the mind of the man who thought it. Profound as the thought was, it still took some doing to wrap one's mind around all that it meant. His mind was so bent and twisted out of recognizable shape, however, the mere effort required to make sense of his own thoughts was sometimes too daunting a task to undertake.

That might explain why he was sitting in the park in the middle of the day thinking absolutely nothing.

Or, trying to.

He had spent twenty-eight years trying to stop thinking. Even when he was thinking nothing, his mind was too full of something to appreciate it.

"Jefferson. This is a surprise."

"Rumplestiltskin, or are you still going by Gold, these days?" Jefferson smirked lazily at the older man who stood blocking the sun as he looked down at Jefferson.

"I'm surprised to find you sitting about out here. Haven't you had enough of just watching life happen in our sleepy little hamlet?"

Jefferson wasn't surprised when Rumplestiltskin -- like many things, his brain refused to wrap itself around the name Gold. Too much. Too much like giving in. -- sat next to him on the bench. "Ah, but I'm not a man of means, wealth and comfort and wanting for nothing and all that. Our dearest queen saw to that."

"Ah, yes." Somehow, simple phrases that implied more knowledge than he could ever know didn't sound quite the same from this man in this world. "Then, you've come to accept things here for what they are?"

"Stuck in a world without magic? How could anyone accept that?" Jefferson's eyes were drawn to the school for a moment. Always watching. Always watching. Worrying. Protecting. Couldn't lose her again. Couldn't lose...

The irony didn't seem to be lost on his conversational companion.

"Who indeed?"

"I'm a man who hears much."

* * *

"Now, this cannot be the self-same boy I last saw jumping into a magic hat, off to find adventure, fame, and fortune?"

Jefferson pushed the brim of his hat off his eyes at the sound of a voice he remembered vividly from his childhood. Even one encounter with Rumplestiltskin, the Dark One, left an impression.

Gone, however, was the dirty little blonde boy he used to be. In his place was a man who had found his way to the finer things in life. The softest leather and warmest velvets clad him now, dark purples doing just enough to relieve stark black and disquiet the mind. Each gesture and posture, from the slow smirk to the unraveling of long limbs as he slid his feet from the tavern table, was exaggerated just slightly. "That boy has travelled much and seen much. He grew into a man long ago. Join me." He waved at the bar wench hovering nearby with apprehension written in every line of her body. "A drink for my friend. Anything he likes and put it on my tab."

The wench scurried away with a squeak and a nod as Rumplestiltskin sat down across the table.

Jefferson watched the old imp watching him and didn't flinch away from that gaze.

"Still not afraid of me?"

"Should I be?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Time changes everything, lad."

"So does money and I've a great deal of it, now. But, I've not forgotten where it came from." Nor how easily it might go away again. Jefferson didn't fear the Dark One, though he'd heard more tales of evil deeds than helpful ones as he travelled. But, he did fear returning to that life of poverty and ridicule he'd known as a child.

"Indeed. And do you remember the bargain you struck to get that money?"

"I've not forgotten. Of course, some would say, a child of ten cannot be held accountable for breaking deals he did not understand when he made them." He paused, watching as Rumplestiltskin considered that point. Just as it seemed he reached the conclusion the deal was broken, Jefferson grinned. "But, I am not one of them. I have seen much and learned much. Name your price."

For a moment, it seemed as if Rumplestiltskin might curse him for breathing and, yet, Jefferson still sat grinning. Then the imp suddenly laughed and grinned as well. "Adventure has made you reckless, my boy."

"What good is life if it's not being lived?"

"Your reputation has been well-earned, Mad Hatter."

Jefferson laughed. "Mad Hatter, indeed. And what a fine line between madness and genius. I have seen wonders those who laugh at my fancies can only dream of and never see. There are more worlds to see than anyone can imagine and I can visit them all. Would you like to see a world where animals truly talk? Or where entire cities are made of jewels? I can take you to a world where no one ever grows older and from there to a world born from a little boy's dream. Just say the word and we can be off."

"No, no. I've no interest in seeing these other worlds." Rumplestiltskin raised his hand. "My interests lie in other things. I shall leave the adventures to you, my boy."

"Let me guess...magic? Knowledge?"

"What is it you think you know?"

Jefferson met that otherworldly gaze steadily. "Dandy though I may be, I have not gotten to where I am just by my looks alone," he pointed out, manic grin pulling into a more serious pout. "I have seen much, yes. But, I hear much, also. For instance, I know who you are, what you've done, what you seek."

"Do you?"

"Well, I'll not say your real name here, if that is your fear." Jefferson smirked. "I told you, I've learned much. You know the ways of magic, but what you need is power. Information, gathering it, trading it, that is power, too. And you have need of my power just as I once had need of yours. So, tell me, what would you have to square our deal?"

"You _have_ grown up, lad." Rumplestiltskin looked almost pleased and Jefferson grinned once more. "Very well. I find myself in search of a certain magical item for my research, an item not found in this realm. I would like you to fetch it for me."

"Is that all? It's done. Tell me what realm and this item you shall have."

* * *

"I've seen Victor walking around with a brand new arm," Jefferson said after a while. "I wonder how he managed that."

"Perhaps he found a greater power."

Jefferson laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound. Power. A greater power, the greatest power, it changed hands so quickly. Pieces marching from square to square. Backwards from the fifth square. Punished today for the crimes they'd commit tomorrow.

No, that wasn't right. That was the queen's tale.

A queen.

Some queen.

Not their queen.

That crime was committed, the sentence served.

* * *

"There's a new queen in Wonderland. Hearts, she calls herself. Chess is out. Cards are in." Jefferson sat in the window frame of Rumplestiltskin's tower workroom, idly twirling his hat on one finger. Glancing from the forest view laid out around the castle to the castle's owner inside, patiently spinning his gold, he frowned. "Rumor has it she's even worse than the former Red Queen. The White Queen hasn't been seen in months. Perhaps she's become a Club? I think I would like to be a diamond."

"And a knave in any suit."

"Perhaps." Jefferson chuckled and looked out the window once more. He could smell winter approaching. He wasn't a fan. A few months spent exploring a different White Queen's realm of perpetual winter had convinced Jefferson he was a summer. Maybe an Autumn. But, definitely not a winter.

"Winter will be coming soon." It was as if Rumplestiltskin was reading his thoughts. Jefferson didn't _think_ that was one of the old imp's powers. But, one never knew with the Dark One. "I suppose you'll be off to parts more warmly known?"

"I've been in this kingdom longer than usual as it is. You know I get bored if I stay in one place too long."

"I do. Which is why I have a little business proposition for you."

Grinning, Jefferson jumped off the window sill and started moving about the room. It had been five years since that night in the tavern when they'd completed their first bargain. In retrospect, he thought they made a good team. Rumplestiltskin didn't seem to like travelling between worlds and Jefferson couldn't stay still. Jefferson liked to know things and, occasionally, steal things. Rumplestiltskin often needed things, things he was willing to pay for, while Jefferson actually enjoyed the old imp's company. No one knew exactly where the Dark One had come from. Those who did were mostly old and dead and buried long before Jefferson was born. But, it was clear he'd been an outcast once, like Jefferson. And, there was an odd respect between them that came from Rumplestiltskin's dealing and Jefferson's fearlessness.

"Do you, now? Am I off to parts unknown? Or sneaking back into lands already conned?" he asked idly, picking up objects here and there to inspect. Always everything was put back in its place. Jefferson had learned the hard way on his first visit to Rumplestiltskin's castle not to try to take anything that wasn't offered in trade. Bad things happened and ten minutes spent as a boring old slug was more than enough for his lifetime.

"I'm after something of a different sort than our usual arrangements," Rumplestiltskin replied, ceasing his spinning and turning to watch as Jefferson roamed around the tower room. "Do you remember that young wizard or whatever he was you told me about? The one who thinks he wields power stronger than magic?"

"Victor Frankenstein, yes. Dreary, depressing land he lives in. Too many children. Not enough shoes." It reminded him too much of home and the life he would have been stuck living if not for Rumplestiltskin and his magic.

"Yes, well, I have a small problem with one of my apprentices and I believe him to be just the person to help me resolve it. I'd like you to deliver a message for me." Rumplestiltskin's smile was as unsettling as ever when he was working on a deal. "I have an offer he might be interested in."

* * *

"You again. What do you want? I wasted far too much time on your silliness before I threw you out the last time."

Doctor Victor Frankenstein was, on the outside, a plain, unremarkable man. Were it not for his dark 'laboratory' coat and gloves, Jefferson likely would never have paid enough attention to notice his mysterious trips to remote mountain tower. And then he never would have been curious enough to sneak into that tower only to find the most curious thing he'd seen in recent travels.

A man stitched together like a rag doll, lying on a strange table of metal with wires and tubes and all manner of what looked like enlarged potion making tools surrounding the raised dais upon which the table stood.

"Now, now, you don't want to throw me out again until you hear what I have to say."

"I find that unlikely."

"As unlikely as finding someone who might have a solution to your little problem with this experiment of yours?"

"What do you know of that?" Doctor Frankenstein's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, I know a great many things. I've heard a great many things. I've met a great many people. People of...talent. And means."

"I'm listening."

"I thought you might."

* * *

Jefferson would have found it interesting once, how normal life in Storybrooke remained even after the curse was broken. Sure, there was an escaped reanimated corpse, a wraith, and stolen faerie dust. But, by and large, the people of Storybrooke, once assured they could not leave the town without losing all sense of whom they once had been, had continued on much in the same way they had for the last twenty-eight years. Curiouser and curiouser.

 

Yes, once it would have been interesting. But, now it was just one more reminder that they were all trapped in this magicless realm. The funny thing was, they still needed magic, which made someone like Jefferson, who had lived for magic until giving it all up only to have it thrust back upon him, resentful if not downright jealous of those who could still wield their natural talents.

But he had no magic. He could only use what others gave him and there was none any was willing to spare, here.

"Miss Belle has been gossiping with the wolf again," he drawled, watching the young woman in question skip lightly out of Granny's diner. Few people had known of the girl's involvement with Rumplestiltskin. But, few knew the imp as well as Jefferson did.

Then again, few knew how well Jefferson and Rumplestiltskin were acquainted at all.

Or who Jefferson was, for that matter.

Matters of the Hatter were exaggerated. Just another story, something in another realm. Were any of these people playing cards? The mouse was a man, why not the cards who were men, yet were cards, but now could be men?

Jefferson's hands idly straightened his scarf.

They kept doing that without his permission.

Had to hide it. Couldn't tell Grace. Too frightening. Her papa was back and still had his head.

Perhaps the queen was dead.

"They are friends." Rumplestiltskin's voice stopped the mental wandering. "She spent far too long without any. And friends always came easy to her."

"I knew a woman like that, once."

* * *

The baby was crying again.

Or was that him?

Whoever it was needed to stop. For hours all he heard was sobbing. Maybe days. Maybe years. Time was funny. Fast here. Slow there. Never enough. Never enough.

Too much of it spent on this floor, these familiar black and white squares he'd first seen as a child.

Too much blood on the floor, now. Should have known better. Should have known. Never thought she'd follow.

"Jefferson."

The sobbing continued. Louder.

"Jefferson. Get up. You can't stay here forever, lad. What about your daughter?"

More sobbing. But, he had to clean it up. Too much blood.

"Stop that."

The blood disappeared. Sparkling clean until little water drops fell and marred it. Was he still crying?

"Get up off that floor and out of this hat before I turn you into a toad. I thought you, of all people, would do better by your child."

"My...my child?"

"Yes, yes. Your _daughter_? You haven't forgotten her, have you?"

"My daughter." His daughter was crying. He had to go to her. Blinking, Jefferson looked up into the familiar face of Rumplestiltskin. "Grace! I have to get her!"

"It's about time." Taking him by the arm, Rumplestiltskin jumped. The next second they both stood next to Jefferson's magic hat. The sounds of a baby crying came from the corner of the room. "Pull yourself together and in a few days, I'll have another job for you."

"No." Jefferson shook his head.

"No?" It wasn't often Rumplestiltskin looked surprised. He might often be, but he rarely showed it. Just then, he did.

Jefferson was almost as surprised by his own response.

"No. I can't. I'm sorry." Going over to the cradle, Jefferson reached down and picked up his baby daughter. "I promised her mother to stop. For Grace, I have to. I'll put the hat away, lock it up so she's safe. I have to be her father now."

It was, perhaps, the first and only time Jefferson ever saw in Rumplestiltskin a bit of the man he might once have been before magic changed him and made him into the Dark One. He'd often wondered what secret drove the imp's ambition. But, knew so little of who the man had been. But, for a second, one brief moment, he saw a glimpse of the man in the imp's eyes.

"Very well. You know how to summon me if you change your mind."

"I won't. But, thank you."

"Look after her, Jefferson. Nothing matters more than family."

Rumplestiltskin vanished before Jefferson could think to ask how he knew that.

* * *

"I nearly forgot. Something of yours seems to have found its way into my possession." Reaching into his jacket, Rumplestiltskin -- Mr. Gold, no still Rumplestiltskin. Others might not see it, but he did. People were blind. Never saw what they didn't expect to see. Even in worlds where magic existed. -- pulled out a squashed bunch of velvet and handed it to Jefferson.

His hat.

The one the Prince broke, that sent Emma and Snow White back to their world, back home.

Useless.

"Mementos don't seem like your style," he said glumly. His hands ran over the soft velvet with a light touch. Power there. Magic. Not real. Wishes and dreams and taunts.

"They're not." Rumplestiltskin stood, straightening his jacket before leaning with both hands on his cane as he stared down at Jefferson. There was a light in those eyes Jefferson recognized, but hadn't seen in years.

The hat!

It couldn't be!

Did he? Could he? If magic could put a man's arm back onto his body, it could do anything. Almost. They had all learned that lesson. Nothing without a price. No magic without a price. Paid that price. Paid in blood. Paid in pain. What about Grace. Couldn't do it. Couldn't risk it.

No one gave twice.

"Think of it as an insurance policy," Rumplestiltskin told him. "Things can't go back to what they were. That realm is not what it was. But, it never hurts to keep your options open."

Jefferson watched him turn, start to walk away, and couldn't stop himself from asking. "What do I-?"

Rumplestiltskin stopped, but did not turn around, and Jefferson waited as the silence stretched on until he began to fidget with his scarf again. He'd learned many things, but had not yet learned patience. Finally, the man who had been the Dark One in another realm, a business partner, benefactor, and kind of friend, began walking again.

"You don't. It's a debt owed, now paid."

_fin._


End file.
